


i can hear your soul

by siringiri



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Deaf Character, Fluff and Angst, Kinda?, M/M, Supernatural Elements, high school setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26101921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siringiri/pseuds/siringiri
Summary: He was suddenly not used to being in complete silence, not ever since heheardthat voice.
Relationships: Choi San/Kim Hongjoong
Comments: 9
Kudos: 79





	i can hear your soul

**Author's Note:**

> hello this is my first ateez fic in ao3 and i've decided to bring my hongsan/sanjoong agenda along with it haha! actually it's been so long since i finished any fic so i just wanted to post it as a way of celebration. here's to more fics to complete... hopefully. (and perhaps more of ateez ones hihihi) also i tried to beta-read it myself but got lazy in the middle... sorry
> 
> also i am sorry if i didn't portray deafness and the school for hearing-impaired students correctly... i just went with my imagination with this one
> 
> and lastly trigger warning for brief mention of suicide attempt

The accident. It ruined everything. It made him sick of his life.

San had sworn he would never return to school ever since he woke up in the wake of the accident, finding out that the world had become silent to his ears. Yet, he was now stepping his feet into the building of that exact place.

The school he was attending now was for hearing-impaired students like him, which became a painful reminder that he too, had become part of that community. Even after a year had passed since the accident, he was still struggling with himself. He was so close to ending his own life, absolutely crushed that he had to live the rest of his life in complete silence. Back then, it was his parents who had stopped him, and now, they were also the ones who had sent him to this school. They had begged him to go and asked him to hold on until he took the CSAT and graduated, since he just had to complete one last year of high school, held back for a whole year due to his recovery from the accident.

And now, he was in the classroom he’d spend less than a year in, in front of a number of students (roughly twice less than the number of students in regular schools, he approximated) with his new homeroom teacher, talking and signing to them at the same time, probably introducing him.

The teacher touched his shoulder, giving him a warm smile. She also signed while probably saying something to him as well. He couldn’t catch what she signed since she did it rather fast (but then again, he was still not that good at comprehending sign language in general for a stubborn kind of reason), but he did focus on reading her lips. Something about telling him to introduce himself to the class. That prompted him to turn to the various faces of his new classmates in front of him. Then he signed his name to them, one that he’d practiced over and over before he left for school since it was the first time he ever signed his name to anyone. Then he just finished with ‘Please take good care of me’.

Thankfully, the teacher let him pick his own seat, so he went straight to one of the two empty seats at the back. The lesson started not too long after, with the teacher writing explanations on the board and also signing and talking it out at the same time. It felt so different from a regular school indeed, and not a single one of his classmates had tried talking to him. Quite different from regular school, where the students would just be all over the new student, but he figured they wanted to focus on the teacher explaining the materials for them. He couldn’t follow much the signing, mostly focused on writing down what was on the board, but for some reason, he felt like the teacher might’ve given some extra explanation when she was talking to them. He tried to read her lips but somewhere down the line, he lost the willpower for it. Now he just wished the lesson would be over soon.

_“Oh, don’t frown too much. It doesn’t sit well on your pretty face.”_

San became suddenly alerted. It was a... voice? And he... he actually heard it. He turned to his left and right, trying to find the owner of the voice, but he wasn’t sure. Did he really... hear that? He started massaging his temple, trying to clear his mind for a bit. It was probably because he was stressed out with the way this teacher taught her class. Yeah. He wouldn’t be able to suddenly hear a voice. Unless the whole world was playing a prank on him, pretending they couldn’t make a single noise at all. That would be so silly.

The only subject that he found himself liking it enough was art. He had always been good at drawing even before the accident, and he was very much thankful the accident didn’t take those away from him, because even during his recovery period, he would draw as his own way of therapy. Even the nurse who took care of him back then had gifted him a drawing book and pencils, including the colored ones for his birthday. He mostly drew the sky, the trees, and sometimes people, anything he could find in the hospital. It had been his own escapade, if he were to say.

For the first art lesson, they were allowed to draw whatever they wanted. The teacher even allowed them to go outside the classroom to find the subject they wanted to draw. As for San, he was interested in the single cherry blossom tree in the school yard, currently in full bloom. Just watching the tree gave him a soothing feeling on his chest, so he just chose to draw it. He took his time to draw each line and pick the right color that would best replicate the tree on his drawing book. Soon enough, he finished it, holding the drawing book up to compare to the tree. The real thing was still more beautiful, but he thought he did his best recreating it anyway.

_“Wow, not only your face is pretty, your hands can make pretty things too.”_

San widened his eyes. It was that voice again.

_“Well... I’m good at drawing too! I think... I don’t know, just seeing you drawing makes me think of things.”_

He swallowed the bile that suddenly formed in his throat, and started turning around slowly. There was no one near him. Unlike the first time when he heard that voice, he wasn’t stressed out. He was just feeling okay now... so why would he be hallucinating a voice? And one that was probably the same as that time?

That was not the end of the voice.

San had heard it again several times within the space of the school. At first, he heard it again in the classroom, in a whisper or some sort. He couldn’t hear it clearly, but he didn’t want to look like he was straining to hear it. He was not supposed to be able to hear anything, that’s why, so he just stayed still, trying not to show any reaction to it.

Then there were other times when San walked his way to the cafeteria and he heard the voice singing a childish tune or some sort. He actually stopped on his track for that one, but then the voice eventually disappeared.

But still, most of the time he heard it in the classroom. Also, most importantly, the voice was actually talking to him.

_“I know you won’t be able to hear me anyway, but you are the best-looking student around here, I guess I can’t help getting attracted to you in a way.”_

Hearing such words from the voice almost made San want to burst, in what, he didn’t know.

_“Oh, why are your ears all red?”_ The voice laughed. _“It’s almost as if you heard me complimenting you.”_

Well, he guessed it had indeed burst out.

For the most part, San didn’t make any close friends. Sometimes he interacted with his classmates, mostly for group projects though. None of them did much in trying to get closer to him. Then he found out the reason from the voice, one time during the break time, when he just stood by the corridors, mourning the cherry blossoms that had all wilted away.

_“The kids think you’re scary, you know. Well... I guess from the look of it your features are quite sharp here and there...”_

Right. He did hear it sometimes, even back in the past that he seemed hard to approach because of his looks. It didn’t help that he was awkward with new people, and to top it off, the inner turmoil he’d been struggling with ever since he became deaf distanced him from everyone else. He didn’t feel the need to make friends too since they would all just separate after they all took the CSAT, which was only a few months away.

_“I’d love to be your friend, but you can’t either see me or hear me... it sucks being a ghost.”_

A ghost. Everything made sense all of the sudden. He had been hearing a ghost talking to him... although why it was possible, he still couldn’t get it into his mind. Normally he would’ve been terrified at the mention of ghosts. Actually there was indeed this sudden fear eating up at his chest, but he reminded himself of everything this ghost had talked to him about. This ghost might have taken a liking to him, and he didn’t know whether to think of it as good or bad.

_“Oh. It’s time to go back to classroom, San-ah.”_

The way the ghost just said his name made his heart skip a beat. It was the first time. He should’ve expected the ghost to know his name, the ghost was there on his first day and probably knew sign language since why would he even be stuck here, in a school exclusively for hearing-impaired students?

_“You’re not coming? Oh well, I guess we’ll just wait until one of the teachers come to collect you.”_

He had intended not to turn right away when the ghost told him to go back, still trying to keep up his pretense. He did start walking back to the classroom after a few seconds, and when he’s back in his seat, he hears the voice again.

_“Good thing you’re not late.”_

He got a sudden feeling of where this ghost might be, and it should’ve been obvious right from the start. There was an empty seat on his right, the one close to the window. He imagined the ghost, probably also a student his age or younger, wearing similar uniform as his, sitting there with a smile that reached a pair of twinkling eyes as they were glued on him and only him.

When the midterm came around, he dreaded it.

San was not the best when it comes to studying, deaf or not, he’d admit. He wasn’t stellar in paying attention to the teachers, especially when they went around explaining materials with their talking and signing, and he hadn’t really received the best marks on his exercises and homework too. Thankfully, there were quite a few teachers who gave him corrections, so he relied mostly on them, along with his notes and the supplementary books. Even so there were quite some materials he couldn’t fully get to his head. He just wanted to give up on this midterm, and literally just go for it.

_“Hmm? I don’t think that’s the answer.”_

Just as San had ticked the answer to a question in his worksheet, he paused.

_“I heard Teacher Lee explain that one. The whole paragraph is in past tense, but the answer you chose had verb 1 in there. ’Give’, it should be ‘gave’. So the correct answer would be number 2.”_

He bit his lips, mentally considering changing his answer or not. Eventually he did, crossing off his previous answer and then ticking the answer the ghost told him.

_“Yeah, that’s right. It really feels like you just heard me correcting your answer. It’s kind of funny.”_

San continued doing the test, hearing a few more corrections from the ghost. He didn’t change them all, of course, just a few so the ghost wouldn’t suspect anything from him. Once he filled out the last question, he sighed in relief, out of having finished the test.

_“I guess the test was hard for you, huh? I still believe you’re gonna make it. I think you did pretty well.”_

He felt goosebumps all of the sudden, travelling from the top of his head down to his fingertips. Then he heard footsteps, and saw someone next to him, but he only noticed a pair of white sneakers with colorful butterflies drawn on them, seemingly walking away from him.

Then he blinked, snapped his head up in shock at the same time, and whatever it was that he saw was gone. He was sure the shock was reflected in every inch of his face, and if the ghost was still around, he would’ve noticed this. He put a hand on his chest, feeling the heart within his ribcage beating really fast. He sneaked a glance to the teacher, who was busying herself with her notes or whatever, the point was she didn’t notice anything, which was a relief.

He dropped his attention back on his worksheet, but his mind was still on those colorful sneakers.

When he was back home, he went to search for the drawing book that the nurse gave him back then. There were quite a few sketches, some of them colored. Seeing his own drawings brought back some memories to the time he drew those sketches, and it wasn’t bad at all. Just at times, when he felt like this disability was tying him down, he felt unable to do anything. These drawings made him realize that wasn’t the case at all. He didn’t need to hear to be able to draw them.

When he got to an empty page, he remembered the sneakers again. Quickly, he grabbed a pencil and started sketching them from the image in his mind.

When the midterm test result came out, San was relieved. He had passed the test, although barely, which was fine for him anyway. His homeroom teacher did give him a little more encouragement to study even harder, especially now that CSAT was the only big test left ahead of him. Not only that, the teacher actually proposed him a topic that he hadn’t thought he’d talk about, even with the whole ‘taking the CSAT and graduate’ agenda he had with him when he started attending this school.

“Do you have a university you’d wish to attend?”

For an unknown reason, his mind travelled back to the sneakers he drew back home, the cherry blossom tree that bloomed months ago, the thing he did to get through the mental breakdowns he’d been experiencing ever since he lost his hearing.

‘Art school’ he signed. Actually he wasn’t sure he would want to attend one. He didn’t even want to finish high school back then, but now he was in talks for university. He really just wanted to get a high school diploma per his parents’ request and be done with it, but when he thought of the butterfly sneakers, the cherry blossom tree blooming and the ghost telling him how pretty his drawing was (and him too, apparently), his mind just automatically provided that answer for him. It was... weird, and suddenly overwhelming him. How could he still dare to dream even after all that happened?

The teacher signed something to him, but he missed it completely. He stood up from his seat abruptly, bowing to her fervently before running away from the office.

_“Hey, what happened to you? Did you fail your test?”_

He froze on his track the moment he heard that voice. This was the first time he heard it again after the sudden ‘vision’, and he felt everything was becoming even weirder. He’d been receiving help from this ghost inadvertently, not even with the ghost realizing it himself. He gulped, suddenly considering whether to just be candid with the ghost or not, about everything in particular, but he wasn’t sure how to, or where to start.

_“What’s wrong? Did you forget something back at the teacher’s office? But you have your test papers with you though? There’s no way you got bad marks...”_

For some reason, the ghost was painfully dense, always missing out on all the dead giveaways that showed that San heard him. It somehow made him feel a bit guilty too, for keeping this fact from the ghost for this long.

He just shook his head and continued to the classroom, belatedly realizing that what he just did could actually apply as an answer to all of the ghost’s questions.

Just as the lesson was over that day and everyone was starting to pack up, the homeroom teacher asked to see San for a moment at her office. That was understandable, considering how he acted back in the office, which probably made her concerned for him.

When they sat down, the teacher started the conversation first.

“You said you want to go to an art school, am I right?”

San didn’t know how to answer, but after a long consideration, he nodded.

“I have a few places where I could enter a recommendation letter for you to get in.”

She explained further that she’d need him to create drawings for the college application as well, which was a given, and a few other tests that he might have to take for it. And a little bit of advice as well.

“Since you are deaf, there would possibly be people who wouldn’t even take a glance at your application. But I am here to help you out as much as I can, so if you really want to go here, you have to be prepared mentally as well. You can’t let anything bring you down.”

He left with a few brochures and forms in hand, taking a long, hard stare at them.

_“Oh, what is it? Art school? You want to go there?”_

For some reason, he felt like he needed to hide the papers in his hands, but there was no one around, just him and the invisible ghost. It’d be weird if he just did that. So he just gripped on those papers tighter.

_“I think you’ll do great! I mean, you’re so damn talented at drawing! I’d love to go to art school with you too, now that I remember, I think I used to do reforming on my clothes, shoes, and stuff...”_

San was reminded of the butterfly sneakers again, thinking it was probably one of the ghost’s creations.

The ghost kept telling him his story until he passed the school gate, and it became silent once again.

The day was getting hotter, and the days spent at school were getting longer. Teachers kept giving CSAT materials for the students to cram, and it was indeed a hard time for all of the students of the third year. (This was exactly _why_ San didn’t want to go back to school.)

As the time for self-study came around, San thought about getting some fresh beverage from the vending machine that the school just recently installed near the cafeteria. He was considering between grabbing a cider or cola when he heard the voice talking.

_“Wow, we already have this kind of thing here? It’s cool. They even have banana milk here... it’s been so long since I had one...”_

San’s eyes immediately travelled to the said banana milk, as the ghost went on to talk about how he always had banana milk every day when he was a student. As he was listening intently, he put his money into the machine, and pushed the button for one banana milk.

_“Oh? You like banana milk too? Me too! Well, I mean I did just say it... I guess there are many things we have in common, huh?”_

As he began drinking the milk through the straw he stuck in earlier, he could taste the sweetness on his buds, and found himself liking it too. He could understand why the ghost would love it.

Suddenly at that moment, he felt guilty again for always referring to the ghost as... well, the ghost. He used to be alive too, so he must have a name as well. He felt kind of sad for the ghost, and wanted to ask his name at least, but again, he was confused.

At that moment, he heard footsteps again. _The butterfly sneakers?_

When he turned around, there was nothing. He wasn’t sure if there really _was_ nothing there.

The summer break time was coming around, but not for third-year students who had to take the mandatory summer class, which, again, focused on CSAT. They didn’t hold the class everyday like during the normal school term, only on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. It didn’t make everything hard for everyone though, and the students still had to wear their uniforms to the school.

_“Hey.”_ San heard the ghost greet him. _“Good to see you during the summer break, I guess. I mean, I know you don’t like it, but uh, I just like seeing you around.”_

He began to wonder how the ghost would have been if he didn’t come to the school throughout the whole break. Would he just be wandering around by himself, or maybe tried talking to other students? How did he spend the previous breaks? Before he could wonder any further, he caught himself. Was it alright for him to be curious about the ghost like this, when he didn’t even know the ghost’s name?

While doing a CSAT exercise, he began writing random words on the paper. Mostly just gibberish, because he would stop himself whenever he thought about writing down properly what was on his mind. Then he began drawing a pair of sneakers and banana milk in fun-size doodles. He made a circle around the two doodles, as if trying to give out a signal. _I want to know you._

_“When are you going to work on the exercise?”_

The reminder from the ghost brought him back to his senses. Right, he still had work to do. He wondered, by immediately going back to the task upon his reminder, would the ghost finally notice?

The weather was probably hitting the highest degree when there were only a week left of the summer class. San went to get banana milk on the vending machine (which thankfully was left on all time for the summer class kids) and felt refreshed right away after having a sip on it. Strange, how it wasn’t even a soda or an ion drink but just milk from a vending machine that gave such sensation to him. He walked down the corridor after that, admiring the bright green colors surrounding the school yard.

The cherry blossom tree was full of green leaves, inviting him to take shelter under it. It was still beautiful without the flowers, and most importantly, as soft breeze blew over, it didn’t feel like the sun was blazing above him thanks to the shade the tree provided.

His gaze was locked at the leaves and small cherries growing on the branches of the trees. For a moment he thought about drawing the tree. For what, he had a tentative idea. But would it be a bit too ordinary? Uninteresting?

He sighed. He was considering the offer his teacher gave him again. He hadn’t even told his parents about it, thinking he’d just forget and let it be after some time. But now it started bugging his mind again. She had said most of the application would still open until winter break, but he’d better made up his mind around the time summer break was over until the CSAT day. He had no idea what he should do, whether he should just try it out or just stay right where he was now.

As he was starting to drown deep into his thoughts, he heard a voice. That voice. Singing.

_“Has the time stopped?  
But everything is still the same here  
My reflection on the window and the chair on the other side have sadly changed  
They don’t fit in here  
As I tried to sing along to the song that I heard playing then  
I can only hear my voice singing back  
I have nothing more to say with the empty seat  
So I walk back the path I came”_

As he listened to the song the ghost sang, he felt a strange feeling. Yearning. Would that be the word for it?

He imagined as a living person, the owner of this voice probably had a dream, far brighter than San could ever had. If he was a student, his life was cut short then... it must be a great loss. How would people around him react then? Perhaps it’d be quite different if San was in his place instead. Would he yearn to go back to live if he were in the ghost’s place? Would he still wander the earth? He figured this ghost must also have his reason for still being here. He felt bad again, all this time he could’ve used helping him out, but he was such a coward, that he didn’t dare to be more open to this ghost. Hell, he couldn’t even dare helping himself. He had been stuck in his place ever since the accident. If he tried to take that one step forward, how would everything change, for the ghost and maybe for himself as well?

The song ceased to a hum. That was when he said it.

“I want to know you.”

He wasn’t sure if he had said it properly, but he felt his own vocal cords vibrating, and he thought he heard it too within his own head as a faint echo. As he said his words, the humming stopped immediately, as if in response to what he said. It became a little bit suffocating, to have the voice leaving his hearing, even though it wouldn’t be the first time, but upon the possible knowledge that he might have caused it, he became afraid again. A coward.

So he ran away from there, all the way back to the shelter of the building. Right at the time other students had started going back to the classroom, which meant the lunch break was over.

He stopped to take one last look at the tree though. He got a feeling, if he didn’t stop for once, he’d regret it. As he turned around, his heart skipped a beat again as he saw a faint figure standing under the tree, what seemed to be a student in uniform but not the same one as San was wearing yet vaguely familiar, and a mop of blue hair on top of his head. San felt his eyes watching him, or probably they had met each other’s eyes, he wasn’t sure. Then he turned back again, running back to his classroom, feeling his heartbeat now going a mile an hour.

At home, he tried to search the song on his phone. The song that the ghost sang. He remembered bits of the lyrics. He found it, but wasn’t even sure if it was the right one. When he read the lyrics, he felt a little bit sure that he found the right one. Although, as the song played on the phone, he couldn’t really listen to it properly. He just put the phone’s speaker close to his ear, wanting to just feel it through his other senses, trying to catch the echoes the song left on its wake.

It felt lonely to him. The voice he heard back then was kind of lonely too.

Then his eyes fell on the drawing book on the corner of his desk, buried within papers of test exercise, the one where he last drew the sneakers.

He remembered the figure under the cherry blossom tree. Then he got a sudden urge to draw it out. Again, if he didn’t, he felt like he would regret it. Like he would lose the mental image of that ghost in his head. Even if he didn’t see the ghost’s face clearly, he was sure it was beautiful.

So much for calling him good-looking and all that stuff. Or perhaps because ghosts couldn’t see their own faces in the mirror?

He imagined how it would be if the owner of that voice leaned back on the trunk of the cherry blossom tree in full bloom, with rosy cheeks and smile as bright as the sun, eyes twinkling as he sang a song with that delicate voice of his for someone. Someone pretty.

As he finished the sketches, he felt his heart flutter. Especially with the addition of the imagination in his head. Then a realization suddenly dawned on him.

He couldn’t possibly... catch feelings for a ghost, right?

The last week of summer class found San in a silent environment once again. He didn’t hear the ghost for the whole week. It was funnily... quite disappointing. He thought he’d regret it if he didn’t look back at that time, but now, he sort of did. Strange, how he might’ve scared away a ghost when it should be the opposite. Still, he kind of hoped that wasn’t the case, that the ghost was still as oblivious as ever, or if he wasn’t...

On the last day of summer class, he just wrote whatever on his mind on his desk. He didn’t care if he got caught by the teacher for vandalizing school’s property. There would be a short break before the normal term started again, and while he was away, San wished for the ghost to know what he wanted to say to him.

_What is your name?_

_Which school do you go to?_

_Why are you stuck here?_

_I’m sorry. And thank you so much._

_I wish to see you again._

Autumn started rolling in, and the class started again, only little time left until the CSAT.

When San came back to his desk, the words he left there was still the way they were. He even checked the empty desk next to him, but it was clean as ever. Of course, he couldn’t possibly just hope the ghost would write down a reply on the desk, right? Silly.

He was suddenly not used to being in complete silence, at least not in school.

Things were becoming a bit bland for him, especially since he didn’t have any close friends at school. (Could the ghost be considered his only friend?) Even the banana milk tasted bland on his tongue, he stopped drinking it at one point.

As more days passed, he eventually added a sentence on his desk.

_Will you come back?_

Then it suddenly occurred to him, that the ghost might never even come back at all. Maybe he had found his peace, that’s why he left. He sighed as he crossed off the question from the desk, which surely became even uglier as he kept vandalizing it.

The art school talk was brought up again by his teacher, who called San to the office one day. Apparently she just wanted to know how his decision making was going, if he did or didn’t decide it yet, if he already talked to it about his parents.

He did try to talk about it with his parents during the short break, one time when they were having dinner. He forced himself to talk orally, which was a rare occurrence that sent his parents in shock. He talked about it in a way that wouldn’t indicate anything like he truly wanted to go there, but it seemed they were pretty open about it, which was quite a surprise. He’d thought his parents would want him to go to a certain place, but that was probably if he still had his hearing intact. They had expressed their wishes to support him wherever he’d like to go.

So basically whether he’d go to college or not now depended on his decision.

When the school started again, he was positively considering it. Then when he found out his ghost friend was gone, that was the only thing he had in mind most of the day, CSAT exercises be damned. He hadn’t thought again about it until now.

How could that ghost occupy his mind so much when he barely knew anything about _him_?

He left the office after asking for more time to consider, which the teacher welcomed anyway, and told him again she was ready to write the recommendation letter for him any time.

The cherry blossom tree started shedding its leaves, which created a heartbreaking sight for San. Surely, he thought of the ghost again, the last time he’d seen him. What kind of look that might’ve crossed his face back then? Could it be surprise? He would if he knew that San could see him then. Confused probably? He did say something that might’ve been confusing for the ghost. ‘I want to know you’, when he said that he didn’t even see where the ghost were. Just knew he was there by his voice. He could take it as being directed to him or not at all.

Eventually, he gave up. He’d like to empty his head just once, his tendency to overthink could be overwhelming for him.

He noticed the students seemingly getting called by the teachers to go back to class, must be because the break was over. Even the teacher for his next period gestured him to come before leaving for the classroom herself. He nodded to her gesture, feet shuffling towards the classroom.

Then the next thing he knew he heard footsteps. He stopped, eyes widened in surprise. The noise disappeared.

He turned around, searching his surroundings. None to be found.

He couldn’t hide whatever it was he was feeling anymore. It had been too long since he _heard_ anything, even if it was only a few weeks and whatnot, he didn’t care. He needed to _hear_ him again.

He just walked away from his classroom, eyes alert as he looked around, but he still couldn’t find the ghost. Then he heard the footsteps again. He turned around in an instant, and it sounded like it came from the stairs located next to his classroom. Almost immediately, he followed the footsteps up the stairs.

The sound disappeared again in the middle of climbing the stairs. When he reached the top, he found a door, opening it to find the rooftop.

The wind was somehow strong as he staggered into the open space, feeling the exhaustion after running up three levels of stairs. He stopped on one spot, taking his time to stabilize his breathing. Once it did, he turned around again, searching for that one figure. Still none in sight. Could it be that the ghost wasn’t there?

He walked up the edge of the rooftop, and his eyes immediately fell on the seemingly lifeless cherry blossom tree. Brown leaves pooling around it, with barely any of them still holding on the branches. So many memories with that tree. With him. Even though it had been quite a short time.

_“Why did you come here?”_

That was it. Finally. He heard that voice. He didn’t turn around right away even though he could hear it from his back, perhaps with some distance between them.

_“It’s lesson time. If you’re not present, you’ll get punished by the teacher.”_

The tone in the voice sounded somehow desperate. San didn’t think the ghost was desperate out of worry about the punishment from the teacher. The voice sounded afraid, and he didn’t like it upon thinking that he was the one who might’ve caused it.

“No,” San voiced out loud, although for sure it fell on his own deaf ears. He could just feel the vowel and consonant echoing within his own body. “It’s okay,” he added. “Is it right?” He intended to ask if he pronounced his words properly, out of concern that they might not sound as he expected it to be.

He heard a response in the form of his name being called. _“Choi San.”_

His breath hitched in his throat for a moment, but then he swallowed it back again before turning to meet the owner of the voice. This time, he could see the ghost very clearly as they were only a few meters apart. He stood a few centimeters shorter, with blue strands of his hair framed perfectly around a small face, which was even prettier than San would consider himself. The ghost stared at him, astonished. San could say the same thing for the expression on his own face too, out of how beautiful the ghost actually was, much more than he thought.

_“You can see me?”_

He nodded slowly.

_“And... you can hear me?”_ The way the blue-haired ghost began scrunching his face at this particular question was like him seeing San growing a second head, despite the fact that his existence as a ghost itself was as much astounding. Nevertheless, San nodded again.

The ghost immediately dropped his jaw, covering the opened mouth with one hand. _“How could that be? Aren’t you...”_

‘Deaf’ he signed. ‘I can’t hear anything else but you’ he continued. He wondered if the ghost got it, but apparently, he did.

_“Just me?”_

Another nod.

_“Wow, that’s...”_ The ghost didn’t continue his sentence, still caught in amazement. On the other side, San started to worry how he would explain the rest of this.

_“Since when?”_ A dreadful question followed, but he didn’t plan on lying, having pretending not to hear him for long already. ‘Since my first day’

_“Your first day?”_ The ghost was surprised again. _“You heard me the whole time? And you’re only telling me this now?”_

San bit his lips, face already crumpling in guilt as he nodded once more. ‘I was able to only hear you at first but I am able to see you just recently’

The ghost tilted his head, now in deeper confusion. _“How could that be?”_ San responded by shrugging his shoulders, because he didn’t know the answer too.

_“So that means... you heard what I’ve said to you this whole time? Oh my God, this is embarrassing...”_

He shook his head, trying to reach out to the ghost by taking a few steps forward. The ghost flinched back a little, but didn’t so much pull away. ‘I’m sorry’ He then thought a moment. ‘And thank you as well’

_“Thank...you?”_

‘You helped me out like that time during my midterms’

The ghost let out a chuckle, not exactly amused but not unkind either. _“Oh my God. I did give you away those answers during the test.”_

‘You also kept me company all this time’

The ghost gradually looked down to the ground almost bashfully, and for that moment, he took in the sight of the spirit in front of him. The uniform was indeed from a different school, although he still couldn’t shake off the feeling that he’d seen them before. Perhaps a school close to his old one? As he examined his uniform, the name tag on it caught his attention.

“Your name.”

The blue-haired ghost looked up at him, and then looked down at the said name tag for a moment, before looking back up.

_“Ah, yeah. It’s Kim Hongjoong.”_

He began pronouncing the ghost’s name slowly, not ever wanting to get any of it wrong. There was a sudden rush of excitement and relief at the same time upon finally getting to know this crucial detail about the ghost. It unconsciously put a smile on his face, as he met eyes with the twinkling ones of Hongjoong’s.

_“Oh, you have dimples. Really deep ones. I just... noticed.”_

The way Hongjoong stiffly pointed out the dimples made San snap out of the momentary daze. Then he smiled again, this time consciously, because that was really cute of him for pointing that out.

_“Ah, sorry, this is just too much to take in...”_

San just nodded again, truly understanding it since it wasn’t just a breeze with him at first either. He guessed it’d still be the same even if you were a ghost.

_“All this time I thought we had a special connection because you’d sometimes respond to what I said. But then it was because you really did hear me.”_

‘It is still a special connection’ San signed urgently. ‘If it is not then how come I can hear only you?’

_“You are right.”_ The only stars that twinkled during the day that he saw in Hongjoong’s eyes invited him to want to know him even more. He reached out a hand to the shorter’s face, who immediately noticed what he was trying to do. The stars dimmed a little bit, as if trying to hold in a disappointment. Perhaps San wouldn’t be able to touch him, because ghosts aren’t corporeal in nature. Yet, he still risked them, fingers brushing softly against... his cheek. Even Hongjoong was shocked at the sudden sensation.

While the shock wouldn’t cease immediately, the ghost in front of him took his outstretched hand instead. The cold sensation radiating off those hands made him shiver, perhaps this would be why people got goosebumps at random times, because they brushed against a ghost somehow. He wondered if that was what happened when he saw Hongjoong’s sneakers for the first time.

_“This feels like a dream...”_ It made San wonder if ghosts could dream. _“I might as well be dreaming now.”_

Hongjoong chuckled, shaking his head. To be honest, he would think it was a dream too. But his mind was as clear as the sky right now, he could definitely tell if it was dream or reality.

_“You should smile more often. You look even prettier, sweet even.”_

Before San could even process the compliment Hongjoong just threw at him, the shorter of the two flinched all of the sudden, freeing his hand from the other’s. He held onto his head as if he was suffering from headache, which again, made San wonder if ghosts could have headaches as well. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but the question was stuck in his throat, making him feel like he forgot how to talk again. He couldn’t even sign it, no, he didn’t have the chance, because one time he blinked, and then Hongjoong was gone. No matter how much he scanned his surroundings, the ghost was nowhere to be found.

San came back to the classroom, where his homeroom teacher asked where he had been. He reasoned he wasn’t feeling well so he went to the infirmary, but now he felt okay to join the lesson again, and with that, he was let go, back to his seat.

As soon as he sat down though, he hurriedly brought out a random notebook from his bag and the first pencil he could find. To the teacher, he might seem eager to catch up with the lesson, but that wasn’t it. He still had the mental image of Hongjoong’s face in mind. If he didn’t draw it now, he was afraid it would soon fade away.

It felt like hours, and the rough sketch was slowly about to finish when he felt a presence nearing him.

The classroom was bare of any student, only a few left, which meant all lessons were over for the day. The homeroom teacher had been the one approaching him, which was inevitable since almost everyone had left already.

“What are you doing?” she asked and signed at the same time, her eyes slowly falling onto the sketch on his notebook. Noticing her moving line of vision, San tried to cover it with his arms, which wasn’t really effective.

The teacher then held his arm gently, giving a sign with her eyes that were suddenly filled with surprise. Unable to resist the gaze, San let her move his arm away. The look on her eyes was starting to mix in with sadness as well as her eyes seemed unwilling to leave from the sketch. She seemed to have muttered something out of stupor, something San couldn’t read from her barely unmoving lips.

When she directed the surprised but sad gaze to him, she finally asked a question properly. “Do you know him?”

With that look on her eyes, San was beginning to think _she_ knew Hongjoong instead. Now that he actually paid attention to her features, she also had similar twinkling eyes, similar to the ghost’s ones. The boy didn’t know how to answer, so he just signed ‘I’m not sure’.

“Did you ever meet him?”

San hesitated again. ‘In my dream I think’…?

Her jaw suddenly dropped perhaps, because she proceeded to cover her mouth in what seemed like a shock. It was one to the boy as well, mostly because he didn’t expect her to react this way, even though he was starting to have an idea of who she really was.

“San-ah, I have something to tell you...” She dropped her head low as if in shame. He got a bad feeling about this, like whatever it was his teacher was about to tell him, he didn’t want to know. He shouldn’t. He couldn’t. He gripped on his pencil tight.

“I was the one responsible for your accident...”

It finally made sense why his parents insisted on him going to this school. No money was spent getting him into this school, not on his family’s part. His teacher had been very eager helping him get into the university he desired, going so far as to provide a recommendation letter for him even though he really hadn’t been doing much with his drawing, like going on a competition for example. It was a form of compensation, given by his homeroom teacher, who also happened to be Hongjoong’s mother, who was also the one who hit him with her car.

San knew he should be angry at her, but as he looked down at the sketch of Hongjoong, now stained with his own tears, he realized he _couldn’t_. He was still angry, but it was much more than just that. Confusion, sadness, betrayal, along with the anger and the silence surrounding him. It was all too much. Fate was too cruel.

No matter how much he screamed, he couldn’t hear a thing. It was frustrating and suffocating at the same time.

Eventually, exhaustion took over him. As he buried himself within the layers of blankets on his bed, the sketch of the lovely face lying next to him, only one question occurred in his mind.

_Where are you...?_

The following days in school were what San would describe as living hell. Whenever he ended up face-to-face with Hongjoong’s mother, he would just bow awkwardly before running away. He knew, from the look on her face, that she still felt too guilty to chase after him, and seemed to be resigned in not getting any forgiveness from him.

Now that he thought about it, she really picked such a wrong timing to confess her wrongdoings.

With that, the idea of going to university was put on halt, because that meant having to discuss it with the said teacher. Instead, he chose to immerse himself in his CSAT studies, which proved to be a great distraction for him, even when it was his homeroom teacher’s turn to teach. He even went out of his way to ask for help from his classmates, who were all surprised but still somewhat delighted to offer their help. At times, he even went to study cafe with some of them, earning himself some friends, although he couldn’t say they were close, but at least, most of them didn’t think of him as the lone wolf in their class anymore.

‘I really think you are not bad Hyung’ his classmate, the one who usually sat in front of him in their classroom, signed in a rather slow pace.

‘If I knew you were such a nice person I would’ve talked to you in the first place’ another one of his classmates, currently leaning on a desk on his left, added with similar pace in his signing. Such comment made the corners of San’s lips pull up in a smile. Both of his classmates widened their eyes.

‘I just knew you have dimples’

‘Right you look even better when you smile because of them’

The compliment didn’t make him grin even wider, it did the opposite instead. He was getting reminded of the ghost who once said something similar to what they just did.

He would admit, at times, the thought of Hongjoong still came to mind, but the ghost himself didn’t appear at all, both visually and also audibly. After his mother’s confession, he’d hoped to see the blue-haired boy again, but he never came. It hurt, because of the thoughts that came after. What if he had known all along about what his mother did, and maybe was sent to him to beg for forgiveness? Would that be why he had always been so nice to him? Did that mean he faked surprise when San told him he could see and hear him? Did he know all along?

Even as he thought all those things seemed impossible, he couldn’t help but think about it that way. Which was why he was trying to cope with himself, with other people. _Real people_ , which was the point of it all.

He snapped out of his train of thoughts as soon as possible, noticing his friends looking gradually concerned. He was about to assure them he was fine when he _heard_ footsteps. Goosebumps ran all over him in an instant, and he could feel a presence behind him, but when he turned around, he saw his bag, which was sitting on his desk, suddenly fell from it, as if something, or _someone_ had pulled it towards the empty air. His friends scrambled first to jump away from the scene, while San stayed in his seat, frozen, eyes unmoving from his bag for quite a moment before he regained his composure, and slowly reached for the bag again, putting it back on his desk.

He tried to clear his mind to process what had just happened. He heard footsteps. He swore he heard it, and couldn’t help but think it was _Hongjoong_. He didn’t believe he could hear other ghosts, so that _must_ be him. It must be _him_.

_“I’m sorry.”_

It sounded like a whisper, but he heard it. Footsteps running away from him. He heard them all. San couldn’t care less if his new friends thought he was acting weird, he had to chase after him.

When he was outside of the classroom though, he had no idea where to go since the sound of footsteps had ceased away. He thought of the last time Hongjoong ran away from him, and immediately headed to the rooftop.

The open space of the rooftop was empty, but it was like that too at first. He began calling Hongjoong’s name out loud, hoping the blue-haired boy would appear before him. Yet, nothing seemed to happen, and he felt his sight getting gradually blurry from tears. He blinked them away, about to call him again when he spotted the leafless cherry blossom tree.

Then he ran down the stairs again, heading for the school yard, to the tree and a figure standing under it.

He stopped when he was a few meters away from the blue-haired boy, whose eyes looked a little gloomy.

_“San-ah.”_ He started. _“I’m sorry.”_

“Why?” He meant to ask why he was sorry, hoping his voice didn’t sound too demanding. He couldn’t help scaring Hongjoong away, which was funny to think again as the ghost here was the blue-haired boy, not him.

_“I didn’t have my memory when I first got here. Then I gradually remembered... and I... I heard my mother telling you about your accident and I... it was my fault...”_

The ghost didn’t seem to cry, but his voice sounded broken. He seemed to be holding back too, and San wanted to urge him to continue. Unlike that time when his mother confessed, he thought he should hear what Hongjoong had to say instead. He walked closer to the figure, who looked like he’d step back from the other boy, but didn’t. San stopped right in front of Hongjoong just centimeters apart now. The shorter seemed like he tried hard to meet his eyes.

_“I believe it was... my graduation day? Which is why I was wearing this uniform.”_ He gestured to the said uniform on him. _“We had a really silly argument, but because of that, my mom got distracted from driving the car. Then you were suddenly right in front of us. I...”_

He knew it. He knew his intuition was always directing him to the right place. And this time, the anger he had for the past few days, weeks, had all begun to recede, more overwhelmed by the way Hongjoong kept his head down. He seemed to be so vulnerable, and it broke San’s heart to pieces.

_“I’ve been trying to tell you this but these past few days... weeks? You seemed like you couldn’t hear me, let alone see me. I was happy to see you make friends, but... I was desperate to let you know the truth. It was all on me...”_

No, San shook his head fervently, wanting to tell Hongjoong it wasn’t supposed to be his fault. His hands reached out for the shorter’s wrist, and once again, he managed to grab it, cool under his touch. The two of them looked at each other in surprise, but San didn’t want to waste this chance spent on just staring.

“Not your fault.” He thought his voice might come out like a whisper, because he couldn’t really feel his vocal cords vibrating as he said it. So he said it again, this time louder. “Not your fault.”

A frown was formed between Hongjoong’s eyebrows, as if he was trying to hold back tears. That might as well be the case for San, who noticed his own tears blurring his vision again, before blinking them away and wiping some stray drops on his cheeks. The blue-haired boy didn’t say anything back, and he could just feel it. He could feel Hongjoong was feeling the same about their situation, that no one was really at fault, and he could’ve probably intended to hear that from San, or really he was genuinely feeling guilty. That didn’t matter, because as he thought of what had happened to them that brought them together like this, he was happy to be able to know the wonderful boy right in front of him.

Until something else occurred to his mind that made him take a step back from Hongjoong, who eyed him like he hadn’t meant what he said just now. Like he was ready to take the blame once again.

‘What about you?’

The blue-haired boy stared back at him with slight confusion.

‘You were in that accident too’ San felt the difficulty of asking the next question, as tears were emerging back to his eyes yet again. ‘I lost my hearing in that accident but... what happened to... you?’

It seemed like a realization had dawned onto Hongjoong, evident from the look on his face. It hurt watching the change of expression on his face, that it proved to be hard for San to hold back his tears for much longer.

_“San-ah.”_ His ghostly fingers reached out for the tears. _“Please don’t cry.”_

The touch on his cheeks felt even colder, and if anything, that made him cry even more.

_“I’m fine, really. You don’t have to cry over me.”_

How could he say he was fine? That he didn’t have to cry over him? San shook his head, unable to understand why Hongjoong was being like this. He wished for the ghost to not be a ghost, be with him in his corporeal form, not wiping away his tears with that cold touch of his.

“I wish,” San started to speak, trying not to choke on his own tears, “you were here.”

Hongjoong really looked like he was about to cry as well, but for some reason, he didn’t. Instead, he pulled away his hands, only to wrap the taller, and pretty much alive boy in a hug, causing San to shiver from the icy sensation, but he couldn’t care less.

_“I am here. I will always be here with you. I promise.”_

Then all of the sudden, the cold sensation began to fade, alarming the taller of what was happening, as his body slowly missed the touch. He pulled back from Hongjoong, who gradually turned translucent, indeed fading away from him. San rapidly shook his head, unable to accept that the boy was about to disappear in front of his eyes again.

“I like you!” he managed to choke out his confession, and in a split second, he swore he saw Hongjoong smile at that, before he was completely gone.

San fell to his knees on the ground, and sobbed his heart out.

The day before CSAT, he came to the teacher’s office with a letter in his hand. When he entered, he couldn’t find his homeroom teacher. Another teacher came up to him to explain about Hongjoong’s mother’s whereabouts.

“She took some off-days since yesterday, due to family matters.”

San nodded at that, and just left the letter on her desk.

If she read the letter, she’d find that his letter went like this.

_Teacher Kim,  
I am really grateful for the help that you offer as a compensation for the accident. I got to go to school again, meeting new friends, some I would miss for a long time. It was a good experience for me. However, I don’t think I can accept your offer in recommending me for my university entry, Ma’am. It wasn’t because of me unable to forgive you for the accident, but because I need some break after I graduate. I’d like to think of my life choices, and what the future would hold for me, as you said, deaf people like me would probably have a harder time surviving out there, and I’d like to figure it out before diving head first into that world. Also, I am aware of your own suffering as well. Even though I lost my hearing, I don’t think it would be worst than losing someone you love. I took sympathy with you, and I couldn’t keep hating you as well for that either. I’m sorry if I’m still unable to look at you or hold a conversation with you, but I truly hope there wouldn’t be any bad blood between us, Ma’am. I’ll try to learn how to confront you again slowly but surely. Also, the big day is tomorrow, hope you’d wish me good luck, Ma’am. Thank you for all of your efforts in making up for me and my family, and I hope you and your family always stay healthy as well._

If he had stayed a little bit more, he could or couldn’t probably catch the conversation between the teachers that went like this.

“Family matter? Could it be...”

“Yeah, heard Teacher Kim’s son finally woke up.”

“Wow, finally! Right before the CSAT too! Will she be available to watch the students tomorrow though...?”

“Don’t know, but even if she can’t, we shouldn’t fret! She’s been waiting almost two years after all...”

“Ah... can’t believe it’s almost two years since then...”

A few months later

“Class, I am so happy to see you all finally graduating today,” Teacher Kim started her speech in front of the classroom, complete with signing as well. “It was... quite a rough year for all of you, probably even a lot more for some of you...” Her eyes lingered for one second on one of the students sitting at the back rows, his eyes constantly moving up and down, trying to avoid her gaze but at the same time curious about what she said to the class. “But I am so glad to see all of you have made it. You may have what other people call as ‘disability’, but you just proved such disability doesn’t differentiate you from people without them as well. You finished CSAT, lots of you did with flying colors, and some of you already accepted in good universities too, I believe. I couldn’t be any prouder than I already have.”

Her grin grew wide as she looked over her students one by one. “Therefore, I shall give all of you big fat congratulations for graduating! And I hope whatever your future holds, it will be the best for all of you. Now let us give applause to yourselves.”

She began clapping first, followed by one student after another, and soon, the whole classroom was filled with the sound of their clapping.

As her speech ended and all the students were now given free time to take pictures and talk to each other, she began approaching the one student she had directed her gaze earlier, who was busy talking to some of his classmates.

“San.” She touched his shoulder, and he turned, surprised, before bowing his head a little.

“I read your letter,” she said as she signed, “and I just wanted to say, I really appreciate it. I’m so sorry, still, I...”

Her eyes began to water a little bit, and he seemed to be alerted by it as he shook his head. ‘It’s fine, really’

“I just... tell me if you need any help, that is all I can offer you now. And really, thank you so much. And... congratulations on your graduation.”

San gave her a little smile and nod, one that could be interpreted as one of gratitude as well.

As she finally left to fetch her bag on her desk, she pulled out her phone just in time for a phone call.

“Hello. Son. You’re here already?”

San took his time to visit the bare cherry blossom tree. The winter was ending but since there was still one month left before spring, he felt a little gloomy not being able to see the tree anymore, at least after it grew its leaves again. Sure, he could still come back, but there was no other reason that made him feel obliged to visit the tree anymore. He would leave it as once a fond memory that would eventually fade into the back of his mind, at times taken out again whenever he felt nostalgic before getting pushed back to its place, never to return to anymore.

A white butterfly caught the corner of his sight as it flew right in front of him, up towards the branches of the tree, fluttering over there for a moment. San felt as if the butterfly was watching him, saying its greetings to him, and he smiled at the thought. Then it flew again, and was now heading to the direction behind him.

“Hello.”

As he turned around, trying to follow the direction where the butterfly flew, his eyes landed on a figure standing a few meters away from him. He had a bouquet of flowers in his hands, strands of hair that he remembered was blue were now replaced with black color, and uniform was replaced by a warm-looking sweater and a pair of jeans with a padded coat draped over them. The sneakers were black, but still painted with white butterflies on it.

San almost dropped the diploma in his hands. Because that was Hongjoong, although with different details here and there, but he was still sure it was _his_ Hongjoong. And he was giving him a twinkling look on his eyes along with a beautiful smile. And his cheeks seemed a little bit rosy because of the cold weather. He looked... alive. _He_ is _alive._

“Happy graduation.”

A chuckle escaped San’s lips as he could feel tears starting to well up before he ran to Hongjoong, engulfing him in the warmest hug he could ever share with him.

**Author's Note:**

> if there are anyone confused with the dialogues  
> "..." is for verbal lines that may or may not be accompanied with signing  
> '...' is for exclusively signed lines  
> and _"italic"_ is basically joong's ghostly voice lol


End file.
